


Do We Leave it A Little Longer?

by majorhtom



Series: Late Night AU [3]
Category: Late Night Host RPF
Genre: Brutality, College AU, Confusion, Disabled Character, Gen, Happy Ending, Oneshot, Panic, Plane Crash, Small mentions of blood, Stress, illegal detention, small amount of Angst, tsa, vigils for a guy who may or may not be dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorhtom/pseuds/majorhtom
Summary: All that’s been on the news today is a plane crash and John Oliver’s friends are certain that he was on it. And further to that, everyone around his college is sure he’s died.But... Has he?





	Do We Leave it A Little Longer?

Jon was sitting down in the student cafeteria, reading from his iPad, when he heard the scraping of a chair. He looked up to see Trevor sitting opposite him. 

“Did you _hear_?” He asked.

“Hear _what_ , Trevor?” Jon asked.

“There was a plane crash-a flight from Newark here to Birmingham in England.” Trevor explained. “Apparently the plane hit a flock of geese during descent, which caused a wonky emergency landing. And several injuries.”

“Like that Sully guy?” Jon asked. “The Hudson Miracle?”

“Yeah, like that!” Trevor nodded furiously. “Like that!”

“Is everyone okay?” Jon asked. “How do you know this?”

“Uh... it’s all on the news, Jon.” Trevor said. “And John Oliver was on that flight too.”

“That’s nice.” Jon lifted up his iPad to search for the news when the penny dropped and his iPad came crashing down on the table. “Holy shit is he okay?”

“I don’t know.” Trevor said. “I just know he was on that flight because recognise the flight number. And he said he was flying home to visit his family. From Newark. And I saw him off at the airport last night.”

“Jesus.” Jon blinked, not knowing what to say. He and Trevor sat in silence for a minute or so before Jon took a breath. “Stephen _can’t_ find out.”

“What? _Why_?” Trevor asked.

“It’s... complicated.” Jon said, scratching behind his ear. “But he can’t find out.”

Trevor frowned. “You know, I would think that Stephen would notice a plane crash on the news.”

“He would.” Jon agreed. “He just doesn’t need to know John was on it.”

“Should I tell anyone else?” Trevor asked, as he watched Jon readjust his hearing aid.

“Let’s just keep it between us for now.” Jon said. “Is there anything else on the news?”

“Uh... probably.” Trevor said. “But I ran out after seeing that. Mostly because I was late for my lecture. Then I came here and found you.”

“Oh yeah, _now_ I’m seeing it.” Jon read from his iPad. “Wow. It looks pretty bad. Around eighty six injuries, at least seventeen of those being life threatening.” He looked up at Trevor. “How do you get life threatening injuries from a bad landing?”

“Have you never been on a plane, Jon?” Trevor asked. “The overhead bins could have come open and someone’s bag could have hit someone else in the head and that’s a skull fracture right there.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to John?” Jon asked.

“You know what, let me just consult my crystal ball.” Trevor said.

“No need to be so sarcastic, Noah.” Jon looked back down at his iPad. “Oh. This is just really... it’s terrible.” He said. “The engines were taken out by a goose flock.”

“That’s what I said.” Trevor mumbled.

“I heard that.” Jon snapped.

Trevor simply grunted. He had hoped that Jon hadn’t heard that because his hearing really hadn’t been the same since he got sick. Jon himself hadn’t been the same since he got sick.

In the winter, Jon had contracted meningitis and had been in a coma for a month. He managed to walk away from it and keep all of his limbs. Although he did have to take medication to control his epilepsy and he had hearing loss in his left ear, hence the need for a hearing aid. His personality seemed to have changed slightly as well and he seemed to have the memory of Dory from Finding Nemo, but the most important thing, everyone concluded, was that Jon had survived and was still here with them.

“Do you think John is okay?” Jon asked.

“Honestly, I hope so.” Trevor said.

A Starbucks coffee cup was dropped on the table.

“Well, guys,” Shep said, pulling up a chair, “I am _spent_.” He plopped down into the chair, looking as if he was going to faint from exhaustion.

“And he’s not the only one.” Kimmel said, sitting down next to Jon and pulling his coffee cup closer to him.

“Rough night?” Jon asked.

“Very.” Shep mumbled, putting his arms on the table.

“I was just cramming all night.” Kimmel said. “I’m only here for a coffee and then I’m going back to study.”

“Workin’ all evenin’ for CNN.” Shep mumbled. “Up all night finishin’ my essay.” He rested his head on his arms. “Can’t do it no more.”

“There was a plane crash in England.” Trevor said. “A plane was landing and hit a flock of geese.”

Kimmel was taking a sip of his coffee, but swallowed it and winced and hissed in pain as the hot liquid forced itself down his gullet. “Holy shit.” He said.

“And John Oliver was on the flight.” Trevor added.

Kimmel said nothing. He didn’t even hardly move. He simply grunted as the information was processed.

Shep’s head shot up. “Is he alright?” He asked.

“I think the important question here is are _you_ alright?” Jon asked.

“Yeah, you’re, uh, not looking so good there, pal.” Kimmel said.

“Are you losing your hair?” Jon asked, pointing to a bald spot on Shep’s head.

“And you’ve got crows feet.” Kimmel added. “And worry lines.”

“Thanks for makin’ me feel better, guys. But I’m not secretly a forty year old, it’s jus’ stress.” Shep said. “I haven’t eaten a proper meal in like... nine days.”

”You look like you haven’t slept in twice as long.” Trevor said.

“I’m not surprised.” Jon said. “You’re working full time and you’re studying full time and you’re the full time editor of the college paper.”

“Yeah, Jon’s right.” Trevor said. “That kind of shit will take a toll. You have to decide what you want to do-study or work.”

“I’ll do that.” Shep lowered his head in his arms again. “Right after I sleep.”

* * *

Sam woke up late, checked her texts and went to brush her teeth before she turned on the small TV she had in her dorm room; CBS This Morning was the show she tuned it to as she dressed herself, ready for the day ahead.

Only something made her stop in her tracks completely. She grabbed her phone and called her boyfriend, Jason.

“Jason, baby, have you seen the news?”

“ _You don’t usually call me ‘baby’. And no, what is it_?” Jason asked.

“There’s been some sort of... plane... incident in England. Several people injured. Two deaths.” Sam said. “And get this, the flight was from _Newark_.”

“ _ **Lots** of flights are from Newark, Sam. What are you implying_?”

“I’m not implying _anything_. I’m just worried that John Oliver was on that flight.” Sam said. “And what if he’s _died_?”

“ _John **won’t** have died_.”

“What if he’s in a _coma_?” Sam asked. “Like Jon? Stewart?”

“ _Then he’s not dead_.”

“Jason! You’re not helping!” Sam snapped.

“ _Sam_.” Jason began. “ _Take a breath. Just breathe. I know you’re worried about John_.”

“He’s not going to get my calls or texts because he’s flying.” Sam said. “Or he’s badly injured. Or dead.”

“ _He’s **not** dead_.” Jason insisted. “ _What happened in this incident_?”

“A plane hit a flock of geese. They knocked out the engines. The plane crashed as it was making an emergency landing into Birmingham-“

“ _I see why you think John would be on that flight._ ” Jason said. “ _Yeah. He... probably **was**_.” He conceded. “ _But that **doesn’t** mean he’s dead_!” He said quickly. “ _Or badly hurt. John’s a **very** lucky guy, I’m sure you know_.”

“Like that time he fell out of a tree when he was drunk and walked away without injury.” Sam said. “Yeah. I get what you mean.”

“ _And if he wasn’t on the flight, then it’s all good_.” Jason said.

“All good.” Sam repeated. “You’re right.”

“ _Of course I am_.” Jason said. ” _I’m not worried that-that John’s dead or h-horribly injured_.”

“Your voice betrayed you, Jason.” Sam said.

“ _Eh_.” Jason grunted. “ _I’m **not** worried_.” He repeated.

“Your voice went high again.” Sam said.

“ _Don’t you have to worry about your show tonight_?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

“Oh shit, is it Wednesday?” Sam asked. “Shit.”

Sam worked on a show for the student radio station along with some of her fellow students, but it was Sam’s show. She was the host. The show was called Full Frontal and it was only on Wednesday nights-other students had shows as well, including Seth Meyers and Amy Poehler who had one on Saturday nights: that one was called Really?!.

“ _Yeah, that’s today._ ” Jason said.

“Shit.” Sam sighed. “Alright. I’ll meet you at the Starbucks later on. We can talk about this face to face, because I really need some comfort right now.”

* * *

News of the plane crash spread faster than wildfire. So did the news that John Oliver had been on the flight. And when news of deaths started coming in, it didn’t take long for the rumour mill to start grinding. By the evening, candlelight vigils were being held all over campus in memory of fellow student John Oliver.

Stephen walked past some of these vigils and saw students laying down flowers, candles, cups of tea, scones, English flags and various British paraphernalia. He looked curiously at the students, some of whom were crying, others were playing sad music and someone was even playing the guitar and having a sing along.

Mostly, Stephen wondered what the hell was happening. Why the hell they were playing R.E.M. and Elton John and Sarah McLachlan and Johnny Cash? Why the hell was that guy singing Fire and Rain?

Stephen got into his car and turned the radio on. He knew Sam would be doing her radio show about now.

“- _I just wanted to say, to those of you who are doing vigils, thank you and it means a lot to, not just me, but to all of us_ -“

 _Us_? Who were ‘us’?

Stephen turned the station over and began his drive out of Manhattan and out of the state.

* * *

It would be a while before Stephen eventually reached Newark Airport, making his way inside.

Standing in the Departures lounge was a dishevelled, bloody, tired and very stressed looking John Oliver. The second he saw Stephen, John ran over and hugged him.

“John, are you alright?” Stephen asked.

“Oh Stephen, it was _horrible_.” John said. “I forgot I had a bottle of water in my backpack and when it went through the x-ray thing, they pulled me aside and asked all kinds of questions. When I couldn’t answer, they tackled me to the ground and detained me in a room-it’s been nearly a day since I last ate, slept, drank or pissed!”

“ _What_?”

“I pissed myself in that room, Stephen.” John said.

“Oh, now I smell it.” Stephen said.

“Like a nineteen year old white, British guy could ever be any danger to any other country that’s _also_ predominantly white.”

“Did they at least let you on another flight?” Stephen asked.

“No. I’m banned from Primera Air forever.” John said.

Stephen gasped slightly and his hand half raised to his mouth, but he fought the urge to raise it all the way.

“What? What’s going on?” John asked.

“Nothing.” Stephen lied. “I-I thought I saw a bee. I was going to swat it. But it wasn’t a bee. Just my imagi-“

“Stephen.” John said firmly. “I _know_ something’s happened.”

“You... there was a plane crash.” Stephen said. “And _you_ were supposed to be on it.”

“How do you-“

“Primera Air. From Newark Liberty to Birmingham. Hit a flock of geese on descent. Like ten people died.” Stephen’s eyes widened. “Holy shit-that’s what all that shit was about earlier!” He chuckled. “Holy shit! People think you’re _dead_!”

“But I’m _not_ dead.” John said.  “Why are you laughing? People _did_ die.”

“Relief, I guess. And yeah, people did die.” Stephen agreed. “But _you’re_ okay. Ish.” He put his arms around John. “What I mean to say is that I’m so _fucking_ happy you aren’t dead. I mean... after everything that’s happened with Jon back in January.”

“I know.” John said. “Believe me, I’m _more_ happy than you are that I’m not dead.”

Stephen let go of John. “So what’re you gonna do _now_?”

John shrugged. “Book another flight from another airport, I guess. Probably JFK. Maybe LaGuardia.”

“Do planes fly from LaGuardia to England?” Stephen asked.

“No idea. I’m sure I’ll find out.” John said. “But for now, just take me home.”

* * *

“So I heard someone singing Over the Rainbow in the quad today.” Jessica said.

“Okay.” Jon nodded. “What do you want me to do about that?”

“Is it true that John died?” Jessica asked.

“Um...”

“Yes then.” Jessica said.

“Probably _not_.” Jon said.

“So where’s Stephen?” Jason asked.

“Jersey.” Jon answered.

“And Shep?” Sam asked.

“Also in Jersey.” Jon said.

“So John’s dead then?” Sam asked.

“John Oliver is probably not dead.” Jason said. “I’ve told you this before, Sam.”

“Is Stephen dead?” Sam asked. “Or Shep?”

“No.” Jon said. “Stephen’s not dead either and I’m pretty sure Shep’s only dead _inside_.”

Sam opened her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock-Stephen’s key.

Stephen opened the door and yawned. “Ugh. It’s been a long evening.”

“Hey, Stephen. How was Jersey?” Jon asked.

“Great for _me_.” Stephen answered. “Real _bad_ for this guy.” He stepped aside to reveal John.

John stepped forward and waved sheepishly. “Hey.”

“I _told_ you he wasn’t dead.” Jason said.

“John. Holy crap.” Jon stood up and walked over to John. “Oh my god, are you okay? You smell like piss. Are you okay?”

“I... have been _banned_ from the only airline that flies into my hometown,” John said, “because I carried a bottle of water in my backpack-accidentally. As if I was some kind of ISIS threat.”

“You’ve got dried blood on your face and in your hair and on your shirt.” Sam said. “And you’ve got a huge shiner.”

“Oh yeah. The TSA tackled me to the ground and I hit my head on the x-ray scanner thing.” John said. “Then they locked me in a room for almost a day. I was _handcuffed_ to a _table_. Nobody bothered to check up on me. And I had no idea that the plane I was supposed to be on, crashed. That’s just some horrible irony right there. And further on that point, I had no idea people thought I was dead!”

“At least you’re okay.” Jason said. “I mean, as long as that cut doesn’t get infected.”

“Yeah, that looks really deep.” Jessica said. “You should go to the hospital.”

“I already offered, he said no.” Stephen said.

“His skull could be fractured.” Jon argued.

“It’s not crushing his brain. Just keep an eye on him.” Stephen said. “You know, he’s lucky. He’s unlucky, but he’s lucky.”

“Yeah.” Jessica agreed. “If the TSA hadn’t got to him, he could have been on that flight.” She looked down at her phone and then back up. “And the death toll’s just gone up to twelve now.”

“People _really_ think I’m dead.” John said. “I’ve never had random strangers care about me before.”

“I have.” Jon said. “When I got sick. Shep when he first appeared on TV. Kimmel, when he raised money for his surgery-“

“Me, when I started my show.” Sam interrupted.

“I guess it’s just your turn.” Stephen said.

“So... When do we tell everyone I’m _not_ dead?” John asked. “Or do we leave it a little longer?”

**Author's Note:**

> So plane crashes are supposedly rare, but there’s been two in my area so far this year and we are nowhere near an airport. Although we do live by a flight school and an Air Force base. And I had the absolute misfortune of witnessing a plane crash in which someone died. So I guess I’d be able to see the Thestrals if we were in Harry Potter.  
> I mean, I’ve been on planes 72 times. It doesn’t get any easier. I’m still a nervous flier.  
> In my original plans, John Oliver was actually supposed to be on the plane and he was supposed to have minor injuries-the head wound he ended up with and a broken collarbone. In the end, I thought it’d be funnier if he never actually made the flight, but everyone around him thought he was dead. The punchline, of course, being that he’s enjoying the attention from being ‘dead’.  
> Jon Stewart was in a coma for a month with a deadly disease. He is not going to walk away with no effects. In this case, hearing loss, epilepsy and personality changes from brain damage. And he’s already made a miraculous enough recovery as it is.  
> The TSA have been known to detain people like this. I once almost got detained for forgetting about a bottled water in my backpack and on top of hat, I had seventeen dollars worth of quarters in my purse (Thanks ADHD and dyscalculia). And then there was that time I was arrested by sky marshals... jeez. No wonder I don’t like flying.  
> Primera Air is the only airline that flies to Birmingham Airport and they fly out of Newark. United Arlines fly to Manchester Airport and they fly out of Newark too. Virgin Atlantic and Thomas Cook fly to Manchester from JFK. And other airlines from both airports fly to London. No airline flies from LaGuardia to any airport in Britain.


End file.
